Kitten Troubles
by ttiiggeerr
Summary: Voldemort is turned into a kitten during the final battle. Harry accidentally mistakes him for a stray kitten with no mother and takes him home. Will Voldemort stay like this forever? Will Harry figure out who it is? WARNING: male/male relationships, one spanking good looking Tom Riddle as the Dark Lord, DarkHarry, demons, and lots of funny kitten ADHD goodness
1. Chapter 1

"Potter! You just won't die, will you?!" Voldemort screamed in fury as yet another spell of his was deflected away from the one person he truely wanted dead. At first, it had been merely for a prophecy-now it was simply because the damn child wouldn't fucking _die_.

"Nope!" He snarled and sent off another string of curses as multicolored jets of light were flung every which way.

Harry, forseeing this turn of events, sent the first spell that came to mind-a transfiguration spell-at the same time Neville had thrown some type of plant at the Dark Lord that was advancing on Harry as if his life depeded on it.

The next thing they knew, Voldemort was gone and the chaos around Harry suddenly grew louder...until he heard the distressed cries of a kitten.

He turned on the spot and saw a small fluffy animal trying to take cover and escape all of the curses and spells. Harry couldn't leave the cat there, not something so small and innocent as a poor little kitten. It's mother had probably already kicked him out, he looked large enough. And even if not, his mother was most likely either dead or had left him here in favor of safety.

Harry made a mad dash to the ball of fur and managed to get away from the castle and the fighting.

The two of them made it out all right and Harry summoned his broom and other belongings. Once he had them he shrunk them and cast weight-reducing charms before taking off into the night sky with the kitten held firmly in his arms.

That arangement was quickly scrapped as the kitten practically clawed his arms off fairly quickly and thouroughly. He tucked him into an inner pocket in his robes and took off, letting his inner seeker test the speed limits on his trusted broom.

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A few hours later Harry landed on a balcony and walked into his rooms through the french doors. He resized and weighted everything before setting them down in the middle of the floor, trusting a house elf to manage the trunk and cage. The elves knew enough to stay away from his broom, as he took care of her himself.

They learned their lesson after the first elf made that mistake. They still didn't know what had happened to him.

He took the kitten out of his robes and placed him on his large bed before peeling off all of his wet clothing-which was basically everything. He pulled on a robe before sitting next to the cat.

"Well hello there mister trouble-seeker. I suppose I should ask you if you can understand me." He watched at the cat nodded, seemingly shocked at the events. "All right, and I'm assuming this isn't your animagus form since you could just change back if it were." A shake of the head this time.

"Okay. I'm going to ask you to stay on the bed so you don't hurt yourself while I take a bath. Unless you'd like to join me, you do look a little grimy." The grey-haired cat shook his head hesitantly, as if the thought of being clean was promising but the bath part was daunting. "I'll give you a bath in the sink later, how about that?" The head nodded enthusiastically.

Harry walked out of the room and through a door without another word, leaving it ajar, to go and soak in the hot water that he knew would be waiting for him.

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When he was done he got out and threw on a robe, not bothering to dry himself off, and picked the small animal up off his bed. He was slightly surprised to see that the creature had not disobeyed him and had stayed on the bed. In fact, it looked like the only moving it did was moving from the sitting position to the laying position he found him in when he walked out of the bathroom.

He took the kitten to the sink and filled it with hot water before setting him down on the counter, waiting for him to get in on his own. When he did, which didn't take long, he picked up his shampoo and started gently rubbing it into the soft fur to remove all of the dust and grime the battlefield had given the poor little thing. He found himself wondering why a kitten, of all animals, would be smack in the middle of a war.

He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts and focused on the task in front of him.

When the feline was _finally_ clean, he took a small hand towel and dried the poor thing off. He genuinely felt bad that the animal had been stuck between two armies in the midst of a war and felt the overwhelming need to comfort the furball. It might not have been his fault that it chose that particular place to be in, but he was going to make sure that the cat got everything it needed to have a decent life-much unlike the one he had when he had grown up.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Well here you are my lovelies! WARNING: This chapter has a little bit of a cliffie at the end *sheepish look***

**But here's the next chapter you guys have been begging me for and I might post another tonight depending on the response I get!**

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Voldemort wondered how in the hell he'd been landed in this position. Being washed by the Boy-Who-Defied-Dying and loving every second of it. He couldn't help it, his hands were so gentle and were massaging his entire body and that shampoo smelled so good...

He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his mind and managed to get soap bubbles all over his nemesis. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw a big glob of them on his nose. His smirk disappeared fairly quickly when he noticed that Potter wasn't mad but laughing. _Laughing__!_ He couldn't believe the boy had the audacity to do that!

Well, he was a kitten after all. And he wasn't even white! He was a nasty greyish color and he hated it.

When he was finally rinsed off and dried, he found himself being carried to the bed again and sat there impassively while the boy got a pair of silk pajama pants on and slid into the sheets.

"Come on kitten, come here." He looked over his shoulder at the tired-looking Potter and took pity on him. He would be that tired as well if he hadn't taken a cat nap while he was taking a shower. And besides, sleeping with the enemy was out of the question. Unless...

Unless he managed to make him care so much that if he ran away the boy would be so devestated that he would do anything to get him back and would be so distraught that he'd be distracted and Voldemort could finally kill the little menace!

That's what he needed to do...But in order to make him care he had to pretend to be a loving cat. Brilliant.

He crawled over to the hand that was spread out across the bed and was taken by surprise when he realized that Potter had pulled him to his chest. Which was quite warm and to his liking. He dozed off fairly quickly after that.

* * *

The next morning he woke up to silk sheets and a slowly-waking-up Potter.

"Morning kitten." His voice was raspy but Voldemort found that he didn't mind much. He didn't mind much of anything when he was a cat, it seemed. He just let things happen as they happened. What was the point when you were going to get to kill the most annoying twat in the universe soon? He yawned as a greeting.

Their morning went fairly ordinarily. Until Voldemort saw a tiny glint of sunlight being reflected off of something shiny.

He immediatly crouched and stalked his prey, his tail twitching slightly. He remained like that for a minute before pouncing on the shiny object and started biting it almost immediately. Somehow, it wriggled it's way out of his paws and landed at Potter's feet, who promptly covered it just before Voldemort landed on it.

So instead of his prey being scratched to death, it was Potter's hand. He stopped his mindless attack and looked up, almost afraid the much larger body would kick him out the door to let him fend for himself. And he most certainly did NOT need that. He backed up and sat there, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Potter just looked at him with disappointment written all over his face.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it, but attacking my favorite heirloom from my mother isn't nice. Don't let me catch you doing it again." He put the shiny thing, which he now recognized as a necklace, in a box on his dresser before walking out of the room. "Are you coming? I'm making breakfast." At the mention of food, Voldemort was immediately intrigued and he followed eagerly.

They ate their eggs and milk in silence, with the only noises being those of the two eating. It wasn't awkward like Voldemort thought it would be, but then again he should be used to the slippery demon surprising him. What did surprise him was the Vampire Lord walking through the door.

"My Lord Viper!" Voldemort jumped. "I have good news!" He noticed Potter straighten up immediately, which put in place several glamours to make him look much different than the boy Voldemort was used to seeing.

This Potter was full of confidence and had a commanding presence. His hair was to his thighs and had emerald greena and dark violet streaks through it. His glasses were gone, replaced by bright blue irises and his skin was the color of snow.

"It had better be good this time, or you won't see the darkness of night for a month." The vampire paled, but continued nonetheless.

"We managed to gather the banshees of the south to our cause along with the giants. We're working on converting the werewolves in the north and there's a few other groups that we're almost done converting as well." The smile that was returned to him was eerie and reminded him of himself...wait what cause?

"Very good. Now go find something to do before I use my newest experiment on you." The vampire was gone before Voldemort had time to even blink. "Ah...Dumbledore won't know what hit him. Now it's just a matter of making a madman talk to me rather than fire off curses at the first chance he sees. Plans must be made my companion. Feel free to explore, and if you need me I'll find you." He disappeared into a corridor to the left and Voldemort was left feeling very full and very confused.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, I got some great feedback so I decided to post what I've written tonight while I was supposed to be spending time with my family. x.x Clearly you guys are more important ;D ;D**

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Harry walked off at a fast pace and managed to find his study fairly quickly. He had many plans that needed to be perfected before he went back and he wasn't too sure he could get them done in time. The sooner he started, the better off he'd be. He only had a few hours before he'd be missed.

Maps and many different colored inks littered his desk and many other tables that he had conjured just for all the extra maps and parchments and letters that he had been receiving from his spies. Much better than either Dumbledore's or Voldemort's spies, too. No one suspected his spies, but conspiracies and suspicions were high with the other two. He laughed quietly and took his reading glasses off when he heard the clock chime one. He needed to get back and he needed to do it soon if he wanted to get there before they'd notice his absence.

As he was rewarding his work, he felt an owl fly through the window. He looked and knew that Earl was here to tell him that the battle was done and both sides were looking for their dead and missing. He nodded and the owl flew back out as he left to find the kitten that had been meowing.

He was stuck on a stair. It would figure that the creature would try to climb the one set of stairs that he had charmed to let only himself climb. He didn't need anyone up in his private section of the castle, and he hadn't remembered to tell the cat not to climb any stairs. He shook his head and went to get the feline before apparating to the Forbidden Forest.

The cat wasn't phased in the slightest, leading him to believe that he'd done it before. He shook the thought off, put his glasses on, and threw the Invisibility cloak over the two of them. The cat was in his pocket again and he told it to be quiet before entering the castle.

He made it up to the third floor where he glamoured the two of them to look like they'd just walked away from the fiercest thing they'd ever been through.

"Act stunned," was the only warning he gave to the feline before taking the cloak off and spelling it to his trunk. He stumbled off towards the stairs, being sure to look like he was injured and trying to hide it.

"Harry!" He saw the bushy-haired girl running to him, her head bleeding profusely, and a red head following her closely.

"Ron, Hermione needs to go to Pomfrey. She's bleeding." At the mention of Hermione needing medical attention, he quickly took her and redirected her momentum down the stairs and to the Great Hall. He pulled the cat out of his pocket and stumbled down two more flights of stairs before seeing one Severus Snape.

The Potions Master quickly glanced around the corridor and pulled him into an unused room that looked as if it was about to collapse.

"My Lord Viper." He bowed. "How can I be of assistance?" The cat hissed and reached out with a clawed paw, intent on doing some damage. Harry put him back in his pocket, glad that it was too small to climb back out.

"I never left. I was upstairs and was knocked unconscious. Right now you're giving me a few potions to return me to full health and will request that I be taken to your house-slightly unwillingly, of course-for better protection. Hiding in the most obviously hidden place to look." Severus nodded and Harry smiled.

"I can always count on you Severus." He got a smile from the older man and they left the room together, Severus carrying him. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing so it looked as if he was asleep.

The next two hours were spent in some form of closed-off room serving as the headquarters for Dumbledore and the Order. He listened intently to Severus arguing with the others about where Harry should stay and then he heard the potentially fatal silence that signaled his deep thinking, philosophical mode. He was totally fine until the entire room burst into protest at Severus's suggestion that he come with him to Spinner's End. He had trouble not laughing.

In the end it was decided that Harry be the one to chose when he woke up, and he chose to 'sleep' for a little while longer. He felt Severus prying in his mind for a moment and told him to stall for a bit. He did, most exceptionally.

He thought it was about half an hour later when he opened his eyes and found himself in a chair that was rather comfortable for how it looked. All eyes were on him, most in worry and concern. Severus was, of course, amused and in the back so no one would notice his lack of hatred.

"My boy, I have some bad news and a choice for you." And so he had to sit and listen for the longest amount of time. He was almost certain that Dumbledore was taking his time so he'd agree to whatever the old man wanted.

"Look Professor, I understand what has happened. And what I don't I can fill the holes with intuition and inferring. Don't beat around the bush and just tell me already." Everyone gasped, they'd never seen Harry stand up to Dumbledore before-or anyone for that matter. He seemed to take it in stride though, and told him rather promptly what Severus had offered.

He sat there and pretended to think about his answer carefully.

"It seems like the logical option. If I go with someone that Voldemort knows I'm comfortable with then when he looks for me with them he'll find me sooner. If I go with someone that I'm supposed to hate, then he won't ever dream of looking for me there." He then drifted off to sleep and let the conversation go where it may. He didn't want to listen to the rest.

It was deemed that Harry would, indeed go with Severus and the two flooed away immediately.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

When they got to Spinner's End, Potter apparated them to his place and put Voldemort down on the dinning room table while he got dinner.

They ate rice and chicken, something that he enjoyed greatly-even in this new cat form.

"I'm going to my study. Are you coming with me or are you going to try and climb more stairs?" He quickly shook his head, appalled at the idea of getting stuck again. He followed Potter through a few corridors and several rooms before he finally sat down behind a desk and several other tables. He tried to get up so he could see what he was doing, but he couldn't jump high enough.

Potter quickly realized this and lifted him up to his eye level.

"You knock anything over or spill any ink and I'll have your hide for a hat." He nodded his understanding and was promptly set on a small spot where there wasn't any parchment. His eyes widened as he saw all of the maps, letters, inquiries, pots of ink, quills, and charms for a bracelet.

He watched Potter work in quiet, his eyes going from letter to letter and moving different charms to different maps and labeling different places with different colors of ink. Eventually he laid down for a change of position, gently nudging a bottle of ink slightly so he wouldn't knock it over on accident. The last thing he needed was to knock over all that ink on the work that Potter had clearly spend hours and hours on.

"I suppose you'd like to know what I'm doing." He nodded, his eyes half closed. It was quite warm where he was, and he didn't know how to make his eyes open fully if he'd just be teased with not knowing anything that was going on.

He dozed while Potter told him all about the little war that he had started with Dumbledore and how he had been slammed into it. The only thing that really caught his attention was the hatred that saturated his voice during the entire monologue.

"So I got fed up and started my own side. I really don't want fighting and it seems to me that Dumbledore is looking for trouble. Between his dealings with the Ministry and Voldemort, I'm amazed that he hasn't died already." He tuned back in. "So I've gathered quite a few different spies, much better than anyone could ever hope to have, and have had them run around finding me followers and information. With all of this I can keep track of who we've recruited, who rejected us, who we're working on recruiting, and who's on who's side. It's really quite handy, actually."

Voldemort had been at full attention by now and was rapidly putting two and two together. It was all making sense now, why neither side seemed to gain the support of several different groups. Why neither side ever seemed to have an advantage over the other.

"And every time I want to talk to that blasted man, he just starts firing hexes! He's never really put in much thought into his plans when it comes to where, so I guess that's why he never noticed that I try to get him by himself. But really. I'm trying to do him a favor and he's just throwing curses at me, trying to kill me! It's absolutely unnecessary." Potter looked at him with a small smile. "That's what I've been doing lately. Trying to figure out a way to make the idiot listen to me." He watched as the boy got up and walked over to a bookshelf, eyeing one particularly old-looking book. "If only he knew what I'm capable of. He'd never try to kill me again, the dolt."

He bristled at that comment and wondered just what had to happen when the boy hadn't been in school to make him so ruthless and hungry for revenge and power over everyone.

The thought ran through his mind just before Potter started talking again.

"I mean, it's not like I don't know what I'm doing. I know exactly what I'm doing and what I want and what I need and if that man fires one more blasted hex my way, I swear I'm just going to take him, consequences be fucking damned!" Voldemort was astonished by the cussing that Potter just did–he never cussed. Not even on the battlefield.

This sudden burst of anger and irritation clearly wasn't even a quarter of what the boy was truly feeling.

A few hours later found Potter sleeping on his paperwork. Voldemort wondered why he hadn't thought to ask for help before and decided that there was no time like the present. The boy looked like he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon so he grabbed a blank sheaf of parchment and a bottle of ink and started working.

Two hours later he wanted the stupid thing to burn. He couldn't make anything look decent and had to revert to a childish writing, nothing like his normal calligraphy that he was used to seeing. He shook his head and forced himself to be happy with what he had managed to make his paws write out in the sticky ink. Now he just had to wait and not move from this spot. He refused to get ink on anything but the parchment that he used.

He started meowing pitifully after another three hours. He was tired and just wanted to be cleaned up so he didn't have to stay in such a confined area. He was stiff and sore and just wanted to go explore and do something. And then he saw something glittery on Potter's ear.

He had to force his eyes closed so he wouldn't pounce and didn't like the fact that he was having issues keeping his body under his control. He meowed louder.

Eventually the boy had woken up.

"What? What do you want?" Voldemort opened his eyes, glad that the distracting object was gone and out of sight. He looked deliberately down at the parchment and watched as Potter read his childish writing.

"So, you say you're Voldemort. Well, I'm quite pleased that you can't do much damage like this. Now, do I have to put you in a cage or are you going to behave?" He rolled his eyes and looked at himself before raising his gaze back to the clearly-larger male. "Fine. Come on, you're full of ink."

He was carefully carried to a counter in the kitchen and started purring when Potter gently cleaned his paws off. He didn't know why but his touch calmed him and just felt so good. He shook his head but didn't try to stop the purring. In for a spell, in for a wand.

"So, why are you a kitten?" He hung his head and let himself be carried to the dinning room table.

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**Ohh, slight cliffie! Give me love in the form of reviews and I'll give you another chapter!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Bam! Three chapters all in a row for all of my lovely reviewers and readers! You guys make it possible for me to stay happy all the time, so thanks for that! **

**Here's your reward!**

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Potter closed his eyes and concentrated on Severus's face. Soon enough, the man was in front of him, bowing yet again.

"Yes, Lord Viper? What can I do for you?"

"Find out what plant Voldemort was hit with. I watched Neville Longbottom throw something in a pot at him, but I couldn't see what it was."

"Yes, Lord Viper. I shall find out as quickly as I can." He left promptly.

Harry could see the confusion in the kitten's face and decided not to explain. He was tired enough as it was. Instead he plopped into the chair gracelessly and put his head in his hands.

"No sleep is going to kill me sooner or later." He got up without another word and picked Voldemort up, carrying him to his room before putting on his pajama bottoms and collapsing into his bed. He was asleep before he got the chance to say anything to the feline.

* * *

When he woke up, it was still dark out, and quickly realized that he had slept through the entire day. He laid back down and slept until four in the morning. The next time he woke up, he got the kitten up with him and went to make breakfast. He was famished and the cat had to be as well.

Breakfast was simple, milk and sausage for the two of them. He wasn't up to cooking much more and they both enjoyed the simplicity more than either one of them thought they would.

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The day was spent with Harry writing more on his maps and Voldemort sitting on the corner of his desk. He could feel the questions and curiosity rolling off the furball in waves, crashing over him and breaking his concentration.

"OKAY THAT'S _ENOUGH!_ Here, read this." He went to his bookshelf and grabbed the oldest looking book that he had been looking at with such an intensity that both were surprised that the book hadn't disintegrated in front of them a few days before. He put it on the floor and opened it to the first chapter.

He watched as the kitten hoped off the table and went to read the giant tomb, glad that he wouldn't be staring at him anymore and that he'd finally be able to figure out what Harry was.

Because Harry wasn't human. It was one of the reasons that he could be as cunning and secretive and powerful as he was. He was clearly inhuman and it astonished him that no one had been able to figure that out. People knew he wasn't normal, but they all chalked it up to being the 'boy-who-lived' and all that garbage.

He focused on his maps once again, putting another charm on another dot with another town name.

* * *

Eventually he told a house elf to get them something to eat for lunch. He wasn't too hungry, but he knew that Voldemort had to be. When the food came, the ball of fur started to devour it.

Harry felt someone walk through the wards to his property and he quickly released his glamours that made him look like the innocent little boy that stood for the light. He was now himself, not quite entirely, but as close as he'd get when he wasn't declared seperate from Dumbledore.

Severus walked through the door and they went through overly-proper pleasentries. Soon afterwards, Severus confessed that he would do as much research as he could to find out what Longbottom had thrown at the Dark Lord, as the boy himself couldn't remember.

He thanked him and watched as he left the room. Disappointment flooded his bloodstream and was soon replaced by determination. He turned abruptly and swept to the bookshelves. He pulled out a few books, quickly riffling through them and discarding them almost as quickly as he was picking them up. This was going to fustrate him to no end, he just knew it.

He searched for an answer for days, with little to no sleep each night. Voldemort was more than comfortable to take cat naps on the floor next to the book that Harry had so kindly put out for his reading.

Eventually he found a book that looked promising and he spent quite a few hours reading until he figured out that it wouldn't help him at all. He continued his search, desperate to turn the kitten back into a man again. He wanted to get him on Harry's side so he could get his revenge on the old man that ruined his childhood.

But he couldn't do that if Voldemort was a bloody cat!

Severus came and went, notifying him of his discoveries and disappointments. He got mad a few times and more often than not he was being told what he already knew. He was getting impatient and he was getting there quickly.

Harry didn't quite doing everything else he was doing before, though. He was still mapping things out and still holding frequent meetings in the dinning room at mealtimes. The first time he had his followers come while having the kitten around was interesting. He had dubbed the cat 'Silver' on the spot and warned them that if any harm should come to him that heads would roll and followers would become test subjects. They took the threat very seriously, even if some had looked at the cat as if they wanted to be petted instead of the cat.

Harry shivered at the thought and continued to read.

He had plowed through his entire library and half of the second when he came across something rather helpful. A book on herbology plants and their rare effects when mixed with spells. How convinient. It even had an entire section to plants and transfiguration being combined. He was amazed at the amount of content and information that he found in it-he didn't like to dabble with plants too much unless it was in potions simply because they could be extremely unpredictable when alive and kicking.

He found what he was looking for, though and that's what was important.

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	6. Chapter 6

He sat down with his legs crossed, not bothering to keep his glamours up anymore. This was, after all, his true form and it only drained his energy to keep up the appearances. Besides, Silver seemed to enjoy playing with his hair on the floor. As long as the cat didn't chew it off, he was fine with it-it didn't distract him any from his research.

Eventually, as in two weeks later, Harry finally found something helpful to him. He summoned a bit of parchment and started writing down everything that could help him. Another week later found him still on the floor staring at the notes he had taken. Every little bit of helpful piece of information had been gleaned from his books and Severus's research and now he just had to figure out how to make everything work out in his favor.

It was seriously starting to try his patience.

Not only did he have to start cancelling meetings and having more frequent one-on-one's with his followers to keep up with what was happening, he was now behind on his paperwork and he hadn't had time to test out any of his new tricks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

He shook his head and yawned.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn't gotten any sleep within the past few weeks. He'd been so absorbed in his work that eventually he'd started to draw on the energy of his followers when they came in. It was high time that he take a nap.

Before he could even think about protesting, his head was cradled in his arms and he was sleeping on the floor of his study.

When he woke up, he knew that he'd been asleep for about eighteen hours. A long time for him.

He sat up and let his body crack and pop back into place, feeling an immense rush of power and energy. He got up and went to the kitchen to make something to eat, not even noticing that Silver was nowhere to be seen. When he reached the kitchen, he saw Severus and Silver both eating at the table. It seems that he owed Severus a thanks.

"You've been feeding Silver?" Severus nodded and he nodded his thanks back to him. He made his own breakfast and sat down with them. The three of them were done and Harry stood to leave them. Silver followed him but he felt Severus leave his wards soon after.

He sat back down and started to reread his notes when the answer was suddenly ambushing his mind. He stood, and as he did a table, cauldron, and several other things started appearing in quick succession.

"Brilliant!" He got to work immediately.

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When he finished the fourth potion, he decided that enough was enough and sat down. It had been another two days with little to no sleep for him and he was starting to draw on the energy of others again. He took a four hour nap with Silver purring on his legs.

When he woke up, he was surprised to find that Silver was on his lap. He gently woke the feline up and smiled as the cat glared at him sleepily.

"I think I found the solution to your little problem." The ears perked up almost immediately. "Now, I have two different solutions and both of them have antidotes if they don't work the way they were supposed to. I thought you'd like to decide which one you'd like to try." Silver's head went back and forth between the two of them and finally landed on the purplish one rather than the blue one.

He opened the flask and watched carefully as Voldemort drank the entire contents. When he started to cough and he saw his tongue turned fuzzy, he gave him the antidote almost immediately. He knew that one of them would do something along those lines, so he gave him the blue one.

"I don't blame you for looking apprehensive, but you need to drink it." He did, albeit reluctantly.

Slowly, the cat started turning into a person again, and with a sudden pop, a full-grown man was sitting in his lap.

Harry jumped up, and by consequence dropped Voldemort on the floor, and started jumping up and down around the room.

"Yes! I did it! Yes yes yes yes yes! I finally did it!" He skipped through the house and ended up in the living room where all of his followers were situated.

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He went through the entire meeting without a single complaint and actually smiled once. He could tell his followers were getting concerned for their safety-they knew better than to fear for his sanity. They all knew that he had very little left. Well, so they thought. He was actually just powerful enough to do whatever he wanted and get away with it and that kind of power would go to anyone's head a little bit every once in a while.

Voldemort was wise and stayed in the study to look at the books while Harry held his meeting. Oddly enough, it didn't take that long so it was only an hour or so before Harry was back at his desk and writing like mad once again.

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**Well, it's not as long as I like, but I think this is a great stopping place.**

**So here I'll stop!**

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	7. Chapter 7

Harry zoomed through his paperwork and finished faster than he ever had before. He had no need for sleep when he was done, but he _was_ extremely hungry. He stood and walked past a few bookshelves before seeing Voldemort on a chair reading the book he had set out for him as a kitten.

"Do you want something to eat?" The snake-like man stood and put the book down, using a coaster to hold his place.

The walk to the kitchen took no time at all and pretty soon Harry had two steaks done perfectly, both medium rare, and wine was poured into two separate glasses. They ate the main course silently. Only when Harry took the dishes to the kitchen and came back with desert did they talk.

"How are you? You seem dazed." Harry sat and poured the two of them another glass of wine as Voldemort looked up.

"I don't know what to think. I've never expected anything this crazy from you. I was thrown into being a cat, that bothered me. If I had a choice I would have at least picked an Eagle or something. Not a bloody cat. And then I was all hyper and wanted to do things and it took every ounce of my strength and determination not to attack your ear one day, and I really don't know what to think anymore! You helped me. You, knowing who I was, decided to help me. Why? And what's with Severus and all the other people? Why are they treating you better than they treat me?" Harry stopped him.

"Eat your desert while I talk, all right? I know what it's like to be thrust into something that you don't want to do. I never wanted to be a part of this bloody war and yet here I am. And now that I'm here I'm trying to make the best of it, although pretending to be someone I most definitely am NOT is seriously aggravating at times. That's why I wanted to help you. As for why my followers treat me better than they do you, that's simply because I'm more powerful than you. I could do things to them that would make anyone faint for weeks on end. And they know it. But I also reward them. Most generously too.

"Now, I know you must be wondering why I have followers at all. Simple. I'm sick and tired of fighting. I don't want to be on Dumbledore's side because he's done more damage than good. Encouraging seventh years to fight...perposterous! Most of them die within minutes while their parents either survive without them or put themselves in harm's way to get to their child. Idiotic. Nor did I want to work for you. Yes, I believe in punishment, but I also think that rewards go just as far as threats."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"How can you argue that?"

"Eat. Is it better to love your ruler or to fear them?" Voldemort shrugged.

"That's a muggle saying anyways. How should I know?"

"Foolish!" Harry's voice was like a whip. "This is why you never get farther than Albus! Both of you are too blindsighted to see what's right in front of you!" He calmed himself. "It's a riddle with no right answer. The answer is _in_ the riddle. It is not one or the other that is the perfect balance, but a healthy mix of the two. Your followers and subjects have to fear you to a degree so they don't make the same mistake twice. But they have to love you to be willing to do what you ask of them and to have a decent, long-lasting relationship with them.

"I seem to recall your followers had quite a few deserters, supposedly of your most trusted Inner Circle being just the beginning. You hurt them less than the others, but I'd say that almost half of your surviving Death Eaters were sought out and killed for treason or abandonment-isn't that right? If I disappeared for that long then I can guarantee that most if not all of them would come back to me. They don't ask questions because I'm not foolish with their lives and my eyes." Voldemort looked taken aback.

"Now see here-"

"No I will not. You have not listened to me in the many years that I've tried to talk to you without curses and hexes aimed at the both of us. So now I'm giving you no chance to talk unless I want an answer. I want an alliance with you and your followers. In other words, I will either take over your ranks by force or you can hand over your alliance to me. I have more intel, better spies, the best assassins, endless supplies of information, and a position that you cannot deny. I'm right in Dumbledore's company most of the time."

"What will I get in return?"

"Basically, you'll keep command of your Death Eaters. But I reserve the right to punish or reward them as I see fit. Any traitors shall be made an example to the others and I have final say on who dies and who does not. No one shall join unless I say so. Other than that, you can remain in charge of your troops. Basically, you'd be second-in-command and I'd be the Head Hancho, if that makes it easier to understand."

He stood and smiled at Voldemort, his heart wishing that it didn't have to be that way. That he didn't have to be this cold. When he spoke next, his voice was soft and kind.

"I'll let you think on it. Tell me when you have an answer. Oh, and your bedroom is next to the library." He turned and walked away, letting his hair flow behind him as Severus's robes billow around his person, sadness piercing his heart and an impenitrable darness followed in his wake.

* * *

**Hey guys! I know it's been awhile but I've been busy doing a LOT of things that take a LOT of time-okay you caught me. My laptop decided to be stubborn and not turn on-only to find out that the plug wasn't in the wall. :0 I'm such an idiot.**

**Anywho! Next chapter will be Voldemort's point of view I promise!**

**And now I have a request for you, my lovely readers! I have two different ways this can go. **

**Voldemort can either remain Voldemort with his snake-like appearances **

**-OR-**

**Voldemort can be transformed back into Tom Riddle's body.**

**Tell me in a REVIEW which one you'd like to see get together with Harry. His attitude will be the same either way-something that I'm going to create-so it's up to you what his physical appearances are!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! I'm baaaack! And guess what! **

**It's in Voldemort's view! AND I wrote more than usual to make up for the last chapter, which was shorter than normal. **

* * *

Voldemort didn't know what to think when he saw Harry walk away. He was overwhelmed with what he was just told-giving up his power wasn't what he'd worked his whole life for and yet given all the evidence, Harry was the one with more connections and knowledge at how to win this bloody war. He was torn.

As he watched the hair whip around the corner and into the corridor, he noticed the blackness so dark it was impossible to make out any form, shape or shadow anymore. He stared, intrigued and curious as to what could make that possible. He hadn't detected the other using magic, so that left either one hell of a dark corridor-which he knew it wasn't-or Harry Potter wasn't completely human.

And that would make sense. How many times had Voldemort seen Harry and know that he had been awake for yet another night? How many times did he wake from a nap, expecting the boy to be sleeping on the floor and had been baffled to see him as alert as he had been during the battle that he had saved him from? How many sheafs of parchment had he seen him go through in a day? How many times did he wonder how he was able to keep the long-haired glamours up so effortlessly?

Now it added up, but only because he had simply opened his eyes.

Lost in his thoughts, he wandered around the ground floor. No need to be caught in the stairs and there wasn't any will to go anywhere. He just wanted to walk around a bit while letting his thoughts wander. It was only by chance that he happened to look outside the large french doors he had ended up in front of. They led to a garden of sorts, and he proceeded to the outside world rather eagerly.

It had been so long since he'd smelled anything so sweet. So long since he'd wanted to even consider going outside just for the pleasure of walking around in a garden. It had been so very long and he loved it.

The smell was intoxicating. Roses and daisies and wildflowers grew everywhere and little monkey faces littered the pathway. The grass was perfectly manicured, but longer than most people liked grass to be. Small stepping stones were in place along the edges of the path so one wouldn't have to walk through mud if the ground was too soggy. The tasteful and comfortable looking stone benches were placed every so often along the path and fountains were everywhere. Tiny little twinkle lights made the entire area surrounding him light up with a dazzling brilliance.

Everything was lavish and luxurious yet not overdone. It was tasteful but simple at the same time. He was finally able to think in peace and without letting his emotions get the better of him.

Harry had given him enough to figure out that he needed to open his eyes to what was painfully obvious, so did that mean that he'd been giving him hints to something else as well? What could he possibly be meant to find out, and was there anything to find out at all? What if he was overthinking this?

But what if he wasn't overthinking it?

He decided to go along with the assumption that Harry had been giving him clues and hints to something so he started to think about everything that he had noticed about the other.

Well, he was pleasant company. That thought wasn't much help and he shook his head.

He had a terrible habit of staying up extra long hours-even days-to get to the bottom of a mystery.

He always had energy, no matter how long he'd been up and how many things he had to do.

He was extremely focused. Voldemort had only seen two people so dedicated to being focused on one thing and one thing only. One was Severus Snape and the other was himself.

The darkness that followed him earlier-now that was interesting and definitely worth remembering. He deemed it of great importance.

He noticed that Harry hadn't let anyone so much as look at his books, yet he had let him read what was clearly the oldest and most valuable book that he had in that study. Why?

That book was special, he just knew it. But whatever made it special had either escaped his attention or he hadn't gotten there yet. He knew that it had to hold some very valuable information, as each chapter was written by a different species about that particular race and all of the customs and behaviors and whatnots that most people wouldn't think important to know or would think that common knowledge was correct.

Was there possibly something specific in that book that Potter had wanted him to read?

He recalled a ribbon sticking out of one of the pages towards the back of the book and came to the conclusion that he would need to see what the ribbon was marking and if it was of any significance. He stood and took his leave from the gardens in favor of getting to the bottom of this mystery as soon as possible.

* * *

Two hours later Voldemort found himself completely immersed in the text. He hadn't found anything that could help him, nothing at all. Once again, he wondered what the ribbon was marking and decided that enough was enough. This was one book that he just wouldn't read in order, that's all. The thought irked him but not knowing what Potter was up to was throwing him off more than he'd ever admit-even to himself.

When he finished with the chapter he saw a figure walk slowly by the door. He squinted, just barely making out the long hair that he identified as Potter's. No one he'd ever seen had hair that long. It was simply too hard for most people to manage.

When he looked closer, he saw that the hallway was pitch black, but it was an unnatural blackness. He saw the figure slow and stop in front of the massive doorway and turn to look in. He knew that if he could make out features, he'd be looking right into Potter's eyes right now. And as creepy as that sounded, he found himself even more unsure and creeped out than before. He knew what the Potter boy was and he knew that Potter knew that he knew. He could feel it, but he could also feel his own apprehension and fear slowly make their ways to the surface from so deep within his body he forgot that he could feel those emotions at all. Apparently his body was fully intending to show him just how much he _could_ feel those feelings.

Potter must have felt his fear, because he pulled his head out of the room and straightened, no longer leaning on the doorjam. He hastened away, the blackness that had surrounded him disappearing as he walked by. Voldemort took a deep breath and put the book down on the floor, noticing how his hands trembled.

* * *

**Okay! So, I'm still giving you guys a chance to vote via REVIEWING if you want to have a say!**

**I can still go either way. Would you rather see:**

**Voldemort remain his snakey-looking looks**

**-OR-**

**Voldemort transform back into Tom Riddle?**

**You can chose either one, or even make your own suggestion via a REVIEW. I really want my writings to be something that my readers enjoy and want to see, so I'm giving you guys choices that you can pick! It'll only take a moment of your time, really. I promise!**

**As always if you have any sort of suggestions for this story please send them via a review and I'll see if I can incorporate them (which I'm definatly willing to find a way to do, no matter how ridiculous the request)! **

**Happy Readings guys, and I'll see you at the next chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here you go lovelies! Even longer than the last chapter!**

* * *

Voldemort took a deep breath and nodded once to himself. He needed to talk to Potter about what was going on and he needed to do that before he could even consider thinking about the offer that Potter had given him about his troops and loyalties. He just had to.

It wasn't even like it made sense. All he knew was that he needed answers and somehow those answers took over all of his priorities and every single spot in his mind. He just couldn't escape the feeling that he needed to talk to the other man about this, and he needed to do it _now._ It wasn't a choice that he had, more like a compulsion. An action that he couldn't control.

So when he found himself walking towards the dinning room table where he knew that Potter was, he wasn't too surprised to find that no matter how hard he tried he simply couldn't get his feet to stop or turn in another direction-anywhere but towards Potter.

His body didn't listen to him.

Which was just as well. He knew that his body hadn't responded as well as his old one and that it would get worse, but he had no idea just how insanely suicidal this newer body was. Now he had a pretty good idea that he didn't want to find out just how insane the actions of this body could be.

Although he couldn't control where his feet were taking him, with a determination Voldemort himself didn't feel, he found that he could still move his eyes. They wandered around him, looking anywhere but where he knew that Potter would be. He wasn't sure if he could look him in the eye after reading the section of the text that the ribbon had marked. He wasn't sure what to do anymore-all he knew was that he damn well better not make Potter mad in the slightest, or he would risk being so horribly mutated that not even he himself would recognize his reflection.

Not that that made any difference. He already had issues seeing the pale skin with slits for eyes and red irises with a snake-like appearance as himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to add on another reason for his reflection to become more of a stranger.

Despite his eyes' roamings of the walls, the floor, his moving feet, and anything else they could land on, they eventually betrayed him and landed right on Potter's face. At which point, his feet stopped and he leaned on the doorway for support. He wasn't entirely sure what to do now, how to proceed and he feared making the other mad.

That thought was almost laughable. Seriously, the Dark Lord-afraid of a child? He shuddered as he thought about what Potter really was and promptly shut his mind up.

"Can I help you, Voldemort? You seem a bit lost." He slightly shook his head to rid it of any remaining silly thoughts and asked if he may join Potter for dinner. The other nodded politely, indicating that he take a seat wherever he felt comfortable. His feet chose a seat that was across from the one who had both helped him and scared him shitless. He was definitely going to need to see some kind of healer to fix whatever was wrong with his head whenever he woke up from this bizarre dream. And the only way he knew it was a dream was because there was no way that Potter was a-

"Voldemort? Are you all right?" He snapped out of his musings fairly quickly. The last thing he needed was to look like a fool.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you." He took an apple from the bowl on the table and started cutting it into pieces without much enthusiasm but lots of thoughtfulness. He wasn't too sure what he was supposed to do now, so he just let the silence continue on.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence. More like a companionable one. They both sat there and thought, one munching away on the fruit and the other slowly demolishing an apple.

"Potter?" The long-haired annoyance looked up, his hair opening like curtains, with only a few tendrils hanging in his face.

"Yes?" He waited, clearly expecting something stupid to come out of his mouth regarding his Death Eaters.

"I know what you are." The pale boy paled even more, if that was possible.

"And? Look, whatever it is, it's clearly bothering you. So, out with it now. ALL of it, I don't care what kind of accusations you have or questions or insults or whatever. Just get it all out of your system right now. I promise you won't be hurt for anything that you may or may not say." Voldemort paused. He hadn't counted on the other knowing exactly what he wanted to do, he just expected to make his knowledge known and then he figured that he'd be dead within a moment after that. He wasn't sure which option he liked better.

"How is this even possible? First off, why did you have to look up a potion to fix me when you're clearly the most powerful being on the planet in the past hundreds of years?! And how come you're putting up with me? Or Dumbledore? You could take the both of us out without either of us knowing what had happened. No one would be the wiser, you're capable of killing off me and him with a few concentrated thoughts and you can make a battlefield that looks devastated and can put everyone under a memory charm so they think that we killed each other leaving you the only one standing and you wouldn't have to deal with this war or us ever again!

"Clearly we annoy you, that much is obvious, so why didn't you ever just kill us when you had the chance. You've had several so far! I don't understand you and I don't know why you want to keep me around. And why were you so nice to a kitten that wouldn't have made it under normal circumstances? Why weren't you able to protect yourself against your relatives when you were younger if you aren't human? And what, pray tell, do you really look like? I've seen you in three different glamours and one of them is what you really look like and I'm tired of guessing!" He took a deep breath and suddenly felt blood rush to his cheeks. He just yelled at someone who could peel his skin off of his muscles just as easily as peeling a banana. What was wrong with him?!

When Potter replied, he was much calmer and his voice was soft.

"As I'm powerful, I'm not invincible. Certain things are beyond my limits and others are better not to mix with the kind of magic I can perform. I don't put up with you, I don't even tolerate you. I actually enjoy your company. Dumbledore is merely a way for me to hone my skills on manipulating the world around me as well as my acting skills. As for killing you two off, that's far too risky. I may seem like a reckless person, but I assure you every move I make is highly thought about and considered from almost every angle I can think of so I don't screw up. Dumbledore annoys me-you do not. I want to keep you around because I enjoy talking to you and I enjoy seeing someone that I can actually stand in my presence almost daily.

"The muggles have nothing to do with me anymore. Let's not bring them up again." His voice was icy cold before returning back to the way it had been before.

"This is my real appearance. The others are for school and for other people that I want to get rid of as soon as possible. And by getting rid of I mean making them go away instead of pestering me with petty information that I couldn't care less about." He took a deep breath. "There's still something on your mind, isn't there?"

"Yes there is. A few actually. Firstly I can't give up total control of my Death Eaters. I can't and I won't. So everything must be approved by me."

"Agreed. They won't even know that I'm the one that's really in charge of them, I promise." He nodded, slightly appeased by this.

"And one more thing. The book said that your kind are able to control the darkness around you...what's that mean?"

Potter sighed.

"That means that I'm a Demon of Darkness."

* * *

**Well you finally know what Harry is!**

**And don't forget to send in your vote for snake-like Voldemort or Tom Riddle Voldemort in a review!**

**I'd LOVE to know what your reaction is to this if you could kindly take the time to review in the box below please. Many thanks and cookies to all that do!**

**Happy Readings!**


	10. Chapter 10

Harry sighed. He knew that this would be coming, he didn't know why he had hoped that it would not. It was only logical that Voldemort would figure out that he was a demon. But what really surprised him was that he couldn't figure out that Harry was a demon that specialized in darkness. To him it only seemed logical since he had been taking refuge in the shadows lately-he knew that they'd follow him as he walked down a corridor or into a room.

But, then again, this was Voldemort. He wasn't too sure what to expect when he was involved in anything other than war and scheming plans. He had almost no idea what drove the man in reality and peace. And he wasn't sure if he was happy to know that he wanted to know the man better. He slightly shook his head.

"Look, I know that you have many questions for me. perhaps they can wait until later this evening? I have a meeting to oversee and then I'll find you and we can discuss this." He stood and bowed slightly before sweeping out of the dinning room and into the foyer where he could hear the voices of several of his followers.

* * *

One extremely irritating and frustrating meeting later, Harry was striding down the corridors looking for Voldemort. He wasn't sure why he was so keyed up about the conversation they would undoubtly have in only minutes, but he was. He turned another corner and stopped.

Thanks to his magic swirling around him and collecting the shadows, his approach was completely silent and he was left unobserved and unnoticed. He leaned against the doorway and just watched.

He had walked in on Voldemort sitting in the window seat that faced the gardens. His feet were dangling off the ground and his head was leaning against the glass. Harry allowed himself a small smile before regaining his composure. Voldemort hadn't noticed his presence yet, and he was content to watch the man sit and think silently. A small sigh could be heard and Voldemort's eyes closed.

He stepped over the threshold and out of his shadows, letting his footfall be heard. Voldemort's eyes snapped open and Harry smiled reassuringly.

"Come take a walk with me." His voice left the option to be denied, and he was surprised when Voldemort actually accepted and stood.

They walked in silence until Harry opened a door that led outside. Voldemort was eager to be out in the open, it seemed, because he had practically ran out the door to the rosebushes. Harry followed at a more appropriate pace and started walking through the maze of wildflowers and bushes. It wasn't long before he noticed Voldemort was by his side, a companionable silence between the two.

Eventually the two of them stopped strolling and stood in the silence of twilight. The sun was setting and they stood, just taking in the world around them. Harry always liked this part of the day the most because of the smell. It was the smell of rest and comfort, when the heady feeling of the heat would slowly dissipate and leave nothing but perfect clarity behind.

He stared out at the sunset, watching the silhouette of a bird fly by.

"Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me. The carriage held just ourselves, and Immortality." He recited one of his favorite passages and waited for Voldemort to comment. He did.

"I'm not sure what I have to do with you being all kind towards me, but I know enough to know that you have to feel something towards me. Demons don't let their families go unavenged unless they care a great deal about the one that betrayed them." Harry sighed. He hadn't wanted to start with this-in fact, he didn't want to do this at all.

"I do care for you. Why or how I'm going to keep to myself until I deem it necessary to let you know." He paused, waiting for the other many questions to come.

"So...I'm not sure..." He could hear the hesitation in his voice and stopped him.

"I want you to be able to be yourself around me Voldemort. I don't want you to feel intimidated or unsure of yourself. You'll know when I want you to humble yourself. Another reason that so many of my followers like me so much. I enjoy spunk and determination...just not from many people. You should consider it an honor to be able to speak your mind. So speak it."

"I just, I want to know what you're capable of. What am I up against if I refuse to accept your offer?" He rolled his eyes inwardly. He had hoped that he wouldn't need to show him just how powerful he was.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the shadows around him. He then opened his eyes to complete darkness. He was definitely aware that the older man had flinched and was nervous. He manipulated the darkness to let in streams of random light until a miniature light show was in progress. After a few minutes, he let his power go and relaxed slightly. He hoped that his parlour trick was enough to pacify the Dark Lord for now.

And apparently it had impressed him, if his wide eyes and slightly apprehensive posture was anything to go by.

"Okay, I guess I won't be going against you anytime soon. I suppose it's not the worst of options if I agree to forming an alliance with you." Harry nodded his thanks. "So...Why are you willing to give me as much freedom as you are?"

"Oh, there's more. I just wanted to see if you were going to attack me within the first two seconds after I proposed the options that you have. There's some more that I have, I just didn't want to waste my breath."

"Well, what are your other conditions?"

* * *

**Another chapter! Don't forget to review and tell me if you'd like to see snake Voldemort or Tom Riddle!**

**Also, on my profile there's a link to my Harry Potter forum. If you've read a good quality story and want to share it with others, that's the place to go! Don't be shy guys!**

**Happy Readings!**


	11. Chapter 11

Harry sighed and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. Especially since whenever he gave one of those particular sighs himself it usually meant a large sacrifice for the other party. In other words, this could be very bad for him.

"I'm having Severus brew me a few potions. With his help, we've been concocting a series of potions to enable you to become your former self-Tom Riddle. I don't want to work with some egotistical bigheaded bastard if he doesn't even look human. And that's final. So, either you join me and become Tom Riddle once more, or you can join Dumbledore in death. It's your choice, but either way I'm getting your followers." He watched as Potter walked away from him swiftly.

When he was finally able to control his legs, he walked to his room and promptly fell asleep for the night.

The next day he woke to find himself curled up into a ball under his covers. They had gotten tangled in his legs and his head was underneath one of his pillows. He couldn't understand why he hadn't slept peacefully, but then again he didn't understand a whole lot about his life for the past few weeks. After rubbing his eyes, he got up and walked to the kitchen to eat. When he got there, he made himself some oatmeal and only ate about half before going to the gardens to think.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He knew that he couldn't take on the demon just yet if it came down to it, but he wasn't sure he could stall long enough to learn how to defeat him. Along with that, he didn't want to need to fight him. It just didn't seem right. And if he could play his cards right, he just might not need to fight at all, but instead minipulate the boy into doing what he wanted anyway.

No sooner had that thought pass through his mind than he was suddenly sure that if Dumbledore couldn't manipulate the boy, then he couldn't either. No one would be able to. It was his way or be killed then. It was right about at that time that he decided to call Severus.

He pressed a finger to the mark that he created during his school years and waited calmly.

Severus showed up fairly shortly after being called and walked up to him.

"You called?" He motioned for him to sit on the bench opposite him.

"Yes. Potter wants me to join. If I don't then he'll kill me. If I do then I have to let myself take the form of Tom Riddle once again." He paused, too lost within his own thoughts to continue speaking. It was only when he felt irritation radiating from his companion that he realized that Severus had been speaking and he hadn't paid any attention. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I said, I wasn't adverse to your old body once again. I must say, I quite liked it a damn sight better than this one. At least your other body was attractive." He watched as Severus stood and made to leave. As he was walking away, he called out to him. He turned to face the man in which called him here in the first place.

"Do you think it's worth it?" Severus smirked.

"Yes. But it matters not what I think. Only what you chose." He turned and swept away, no doubt to either brew yet another potion or to report back to Potter. He was stuck in a tight spot and he wasn't sure that he liked it at all. In fact, if he was going to be completely honest, he absolutely abhorred it.

* * *

A few days had passed and he still hadn't made a decision. And it was mainly because all he could think about was what Severus had said. That it didn't matter what one of his most faithful spies (kinda) thought about him changing his appearance to that of his muggle father but what he chose to do in the end. So far he had decided that it meant that he needed to chose based on solely what he thought and not what other people wanted.

In the end, he made his choice that evening.

He hadn't made any choices consciously, actually. He only wanted dinner when he had dropped the bomb on himself, so to speak.

A nice meal was set out for the two occupants of the huge manor when he had walked into the dinning room. Shepard's Pie was steaming and enticing, whilst he could smell the wonderous fragrance of baked goods for desert in the kitchen. He just knew that this meal would be devine.

"I thought we could use a nice meal for once without my followers invading on our meal." The quiet voice made him almost jump out of his skin, but he regained his composure nicely.

They sat down, one on either side of the table, to eat. They weren't at the heads of the table, it would be foolish to be ten meters away from each other if they planned on dining together. Instead they were placed about halfway down. The food was simply devine.

When Voldemort was finishing his pie, he heard a slight cough come from Potter. He looked up and indicated for him to continue, that he was listening.

"Have you made a decision or do you still need more time?" He felt his eyes widen. Never in his wildest dream did he imagine that Potter would give him more time, willingly, to let him chose a side! He was completely baffled but he kept it hidden quite well. It did well to school one's features at a young age. It better prepared him for situations such as this.

"I have." He felt his body straighten and he heard himself say what he never thought he'd ever say within the next week, at least. He had originally planned to come up with an answer this week, and he wasn't prepared for what he heard his mouth and voice say next.

* * *

**Well, here you are dearies! I'm sorry it took so long, I just wasn't sure what I wanted to do with this chapter. **

**I guess you could say I had a small writer's block.**

**But it's gone now, yaaaay!**

**NOW! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO VOTE ON WHICH FORM YOU WANT VOLDEMORT TO TAKE! AFTER THIS CHAPTER YOUR VOTES WILL BE COUNTED AND TALLIED FOR THE WINNER!**

**SO! In a review, tell me if you want to see Voldemort become Tom Riddle and side with Harry**

**OR**

**tell me if you want to see Voldemort hide away after refusing to join either side and giving up his followers and all magical/political influences.**

**Send me votes dears, remember THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!**


	12. Chapter 12

**The votes have been tallied! With a whopping 26 to 2, the winner goes to...!**

* * *

"I've decided that I can gain much more by being alive than dead. As it is, I can't seem to get an upper hand on Dumbledore alone anyway. I'll join you, but only if I can stay here. I quite like this place, it's much calmer than my last abode." Harry's mouth almost dropped. He hadn't expected him to give in so easily or so soon. Out of respect and as a curtosy he had stayed out of Voldemort's mind his entire stay and now he was completely caught off guard.

He guessed that that's what he liked so much about both him and Severus. They both challenged him, although Severus knew his place and when to back off. Harry hadn't had enough time with Voldemort as a follower to know if he would remember his place or not.

It would seem that he would find out soon enough.

"Of course you may stay here. If you don't mind my saying, I wasn't going to let you leave anyway. Besides, the potion Severus is perfecting and finishing as we speak will be painful. More so than the Polyjuice and that's saying something. How Crouch could drink that stuff on the hour every hour without so much as a shudder is beyond me." He got up to leave and turned back when he heard a soft voice from behind him.

"Wait...May I accompany you? I have questions, you see..." Harry smiled and slowly shook his head in a bemused way.

"No. Your questions are most likely either personal or would be better off to wait until I have both you and I sitting in front of my extensive collection of maps. Now, if you'll excuse me I have some business to attend to." He turned and swept out of the room in a rather dramatic way.

* * *

When he entered his study, he focused on Severus and waited.

Several hours passed and Harry hadn't made another attempt at getting the Potions Master to respond to his call as he knew the potions he was working on were all at various stages, all of them highly unstable right now. The poor man was overworking himself, trying to brew eighteen potions all at once, and one of them being one he invented not that long ago!

Harry would talk to him about that.

He had just finished reading a rather interesting book by Jane Austen; although it wasn't quite realistic in the Magical World, it was overly perfect for the Muggle World. It was moments after he closed the small text when Severus came in the room, bowing when he stopped.

"My Lord Viper. How may I be of assistance?" Harry bid him to stand up and drop the formalities for now.

"Is Dumbledore still asking after my health?"

"Of course. He's always wondering what his precious tool's doing when he isn't capable of watching." Harry nodded, knowing that the old codger wouldn't give up so easily. "My Lord, if I may?"

"Sit, please. You look tired. And stop with all the formalities Severus. It bores me when we're not in imminent danger." He sat and bowed his head slightly in a way of apology and acceptance. "Now, what's on your mind?"

"The potion you requested is done. It was fairly simple to create in comparison to some of my more interesting concoctions, but difficult nonetheless. However, it will cause a great deal of pain to Voldemort once consumed. He will be either unconscious or in too much pain to do anything on his own-even drinking water- for several days."

"How many?"

"At least six, no more than nine." Harry nodded, slightly upset that he was putting Voldemort of all people in that much pain. Sure he deserved some sort of discomfort, but that much for that long was pushing it for him.

"Well, I assume you have it with you then?" Severus nodded and handed him a tiny vial. "This is it? That much pain in such a small deliverance...Incredible." He quickly pocketed the vial and turned back to Severus. "Do tell me what's been going on in your life since you've been here last..."

They spent the next several hours chatting away like old friends were prone to do after long periods of being away from each other.

* * *

The next day, Harry had to oversee another meeting. Everything in the world was going perfectly and flawlessly as planned, until one of his followers interrupted him.

He had been commenting on the progress Severus was having with converting the Malfoy family over from the Light side to Harry's cause when a newbie from the back coughed to poorly cover up the phrase 'idiot move'. The entire room was deathly silent as Harry turned his head slowly from Severus directly at the idiot in the back. He stood slowly, loving the feel of his hair moving against his legs. His eyes flashed and glowed, betraying his calm appearance.

He felt his powers gather in the pit of his stomach and felt his hair start to whirl around him, first slowly like a slight breeze had started and then more and more fiercely. Blackness swirled around him in wild streaks, intermingling with the light from the windows behind him. He glared at his target before shooting the shadows from around the room at the dumb recruit.

When the blackness dissipated from around his body everyone saw the man lying on the ground, gagged and bound tightly. No one ever knew how he could form things like chain out of shadows, but all of them knew that they never wanted to be on the receiving end of it. Ever.

The man was crying in fear already.

"Never insult my decisions. You agreed to that when you entered my service. Now you must learn what happens when you go against what you say." He walked up to the man, letting the shadows lift him from the floor, levitating him two inches off the ground. "You'll never have to worry about going against your word again." He turned and pointed at Fenrir's wife. He had recruited the both of them when he first started his own side to the war.

Everyone held absolutely still, wondering why he would punish her. They hadn't seen her do anything wrong, but that didn't mean that he couldn't read their minds. He slowly crooked his finger a few times and she walked forward, head held high. When she reached him, he could sense the slight edge of fear. It was mostly overpowered by a sense of determination and acceptance. He looked over her at her husband.

"You have a very brave and noble wife. She is definitely worthy." He turned back to her. "You haven't had anyone to play with in awhile, have you?" His voice was sweet, sugary sweet like honey. He reserved it for giving treats to his followers and they all knew it.

"No My Lord Viper. But I only need a toy to play with if you deem it so. I can survive without them for as long as you want me to." He smiled at her and lifted her face up with the same finger that had beckoned her.

"Take this vermin to the dungeons and have some fun with him. You deserve a treat since you've proven your worth-not only to me but to your husband as well." He felt a surge of pride as she smiled shyly at him.

"If I may...?" He nodded, indicating for her to go on. "May I bring my husband along? He's been bored lately." He nodded.

"Of course. Just be sure that your toy is no longer working by morning and thrown in the trash by breakfast. I don't want the smell, you see." She nodded and smiled as her magic took over for the shadows. They could hear the man's body hitting the walls all the way down seven flights of stairs until that gave way to a scream that was soon silenced.

A solemn mood followed.

"Let that be a lesson to you all. Dismissed." They quickly left, dispersing faster than cows at feeding time. He sighed quietly and turned to leave the room as soon as it was emptied of all but himself.

When he saw Voldemort in the doorway, the man fled.

* * *

**So clearly you guys voted for Tom Riddle! That's awesome because I know exactly where this is going now!**

**Thank you to the 100 followers to this story! I saw that and rewarded myself with ice cream.**

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	13. Chapter 13

**Hello my beautiful lovelies and welcome back to yet another installment of Kitten Troubles! I hope you all have been good little readers and reviewing and voting on my poll that's posted on my profile (hint hint). But my life had gotten a little hectic for a bit and I therefore couldn't write anything. I just wasn't inspired. **

**HOWEVER! I'M BACK! I've got a new inspiration that makes me want to pick this up again-along with writing in general. So, with a warm heartfelt applaud to Alec I am now back in business and you now have more to read! Enjoy my lovelies!**

* * *

Voldemort ran out of the room as soon as he saw Potter's eyes on him. He was running because he knew he wasn't supposed to be in the meeting and he was eavesdropping. And after what the long-haired demon just did to whoever that guy was, he wasn't in the mood for getting caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.

Besides, he was afraid of Potter.

He knew before what demons could do when angered, but he had never seen one as powerful as this. Nor one so angered. It scared him.

When he finally stopped running he had ended up in the garden somewhere. He had never been this far away from the manor...castle...building since he had been a cat and it turns out that he was actually nervous this far away from it. He had no idea how to get back and with an angry demon on the loose he wasn't so sure he wanted to get back. And therein lies his dilema.

He was afraid to be out here by himself this far away from Potter and the reassurance that he knew where he was-somewhat. But he was also afraid to go back and to face the wrath of an angry demon. It just wasn't a good spot that he was in right now.

And then he stopped and took stock of what was going on. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this. He never really paid that much attention to his emotions so why was he doing it now? He was acting on instinct. And somehow he knew that it felt oddly familiar, like he had used his instincts before now. He scratched his ear.

And that's when it hit him. He was turning back into a kitten! Panic settled itself in his stomach and he started turning around in circles madly, trying to find which way he had come from. Needless to say, it wasn't working so well.

He tried to cry out for help, his pride be damned, and it came out as a high pitched meow. In his head he could definately tell that no one would be able to hear him unless they could see him. Deciding that it was inevitable, he sat down and let his body become the silver kitten once again.

* * *

He meant to try and find his way back, he really did! But his instincts weren't letting him do anything! It wasn't his fault he wanted to go and chase that damned mouse or that he just had to pounce on the dragonfly and get his shiny coat all muddy. And it most certainly wasn't his fault that he had to stop before the sun went down to clean himself up with his tongue. And it damn well wasn't his fault that the sun decided to go down shortly thereafter! He laid down and fell asleep a few hours after the sun had left the world in darkness, exhausted by all the emotions the tiny kitten had to go through in one day.

* * *

Harry didn't know what had happened. First he was mad at some newbie idiot and the next thing he knew he was watching Voldemort run off to the gardens. And not the regular gardens, no he had ended up running for the magical ones that change their paths all the time. And Harry had followed him.

He had trusted his instincts and powers to guide him through the bushes and hedges to find the blasted man. What he hadn't counted on was the shadows in here being this difficult to work with. They didn't want to obey him and he litterally had to assert himself more than once by putting on a spectacular show that drained him of a lot of his energy. Not all of it, but enough to genuinly concern him.

And that didn't happen often.

Eventually, as in several hours later as the sun was just beginning to make it's appearance over the horizon, he found the telltale signs of a cat's presence. It was sleeping and he decided not to bother it. But something made him turn the corner anyway.

What he saw wasn't a stray like he had expected, but Voldemort in his silvery kitten form. Well...once silvery. Now he was a weird combination of silver and muck brown and every other color inbetween. He walked up and gently picked him up and held him to his body, being careful not to jostle him too much.

He gathered his remaining strength and flew back to the castle where he would bathe the kitten once again and go to sleep.

* * *

**I want to make a quick note down here-it's not as long as usual but I figured it was better than nothing. So it's about 200 words short of my usual. Sorry guys.**

**But I'll put an extra 200 words in the next one, how bout that?**

**I'll even give out free cookies to those of you that review!**

**Happy Readings!**


	14. Chapter 14

**My beautiful lovelies! Hello! I'm back!**

**Free cookies to all of you that reviewed on the last chapter! **

**So here's the next chapter and it's 300 extra words! Yay!**

* * *

He eventually made it back to his rooms and landed heavily on the balcony. He felt absolutely terrible after expending most of his energy. But he still managed to carry the kitten-now slightly awake-to the bathroom to clean him up better. Clearly Voldemort had no idea how to properly groom himself, probably a product of not having much practice as a kitten.

He turned the water on warm and started to gently rub shampoo into the soft fur, getting caught up in the gentle, repetitive movements. He was careful not to get any of the suds in Voldemort's eyes as he rinsed it all off. He heard a soft purring as he reached for the conditioner and looked down at the kitten.

Voldemort looked terrible. He looked like he'd been betrayed by his instincts and had been caught in the middle of a rock and another larger rock. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he started rubbing the conditioner into the silvery mass of soon-to-be fluff and remained there until he had the kitten completely rinsed off and clean. There wasn't any towels in the cabinet yet so he just cast a drying and warming spell on Voldemort, laughing as it fluffed out his fur until he looked like a cat with an afro.

Exhaustion took over his body after his small laughing fit and he went to lie down. He didn't say anything to the kitten, he just picked him up and put him on the bed before collapsing himself and falling into the blessed darkness that would refill his energy tanks. He didn't even bother to take his cloths off.

* * *

Voldemort watched as Potter quickly fell asleep. The man had practically been asleep while he was walking to the bed, let alone after his head hit the pillow. Lightly stepping up to him for warmth, Voldemort carefully examined the demon in front of him.

He was handsome, in a pretty kind of way. He knew that he had dimples when he smiled now and he also knew that he had emerald eyes that would change depending on his mood. For instance-if he was mad they turned as black as obsidean. Normally the boy-man-would be stressed and tense when awake but in sleep he was just the opposite. He looked peaceful and happy and calm.

And it wasn't too long before he found himself wanting to touch his cheek just to see if it was as soft as it looked and wanting to play with his hair. He quickly shook the thought out of his head and had to distract himself with clawing at the bed, trying to make it softer for himself.

When he was satisfied with that, he then started thinking about the man in front of him again. He wondered what he would do while Potter was using his followers to do his bidding and what would possibly occupy his time. He wondered if he would help Potter do whatever it is that he does or if he'd be stuck staying indoors and occupying himself. And then he remembered that he was a kitten again.

Again.

Why was he a kitten again?! What was going on? He thought that he had been done with this kitten crap but apparently not. Apparently everyone in the universe has decided that they were going to try and see just how irritated they could make him in the span of one month. And he was pretty irritated, that's for sure. He didn't want to be a cat but here he was-a bloody feline. And he didn't want to be less than a foot away from his arch nemisis and not be able to do a damn thing about it other than sit and watch him and wonder about what he was going to become in the future now that he litterally worked for said nemisis. He didn't want to do that! He was Lord Voldemort!

And he was utterly defenseless.

Other than a few claws, he was totally at the mercy of everyone around him for now. And he didn't like that one bit. He should be able to torture people to death and to strike fear into anyone that walked by. Now he'd only inspire the words 'cute' and 'adorable' not screams of terror. He didn't want to be a laughing stock but he had to admit that someone had to be laughing about it. Even if only on the inside and that was something that he just didn't want to take lying down. But it would seem that that was what he would have to do for now.

Now that he was a bloody cat again.

And it wasn't even like he was a full-grown fierce looking cat. No. He had to be a bloody kitten of all things. One of those cute and cuddly looking things. He didn't think that he could be very intimidating while he was covered in soft fur.

And then his thoughts traveled down other roads. Roads of soft beds and warmth and sleep.

* * *

When Harry woke up again, he wasn't surprised to find that his hair was in a huge tangled up mess. He also was not surprised to find Severus standing over him shaking him awake gently.

"What is it Severus? And no bowing!" He sat up slowly and opened his eyes.

"I have the potion for Voldemort. And I thought that I should tell you that you know that he may have turned back into a kitten after being so aggitated. Clearly he did. But it shouldn't have any ill affects. The only thing that will happen is he'll be an animagus. A kitten animagus, actually. But I should mention that as soon as he takes this, in theory, his animagus form will mature and be the form of a fully matured cat. I'm sure he'll be slightly more happy about that." Harry nodded.

"I'm sure he will. Now if you don't mind, would you put it on the vanity?" He nodded towards the vanity that was next to his wardrobe and stood up letting his back pop several times. "That felt good. Anyway, was there anything else Severus?" He nodded gravely.

"Although he'll be in a severe amount of pain, no magic-demon or otherwise-should be preformed anywhere near him. Which means that you shouldn't be near him-" Harry cut him off.

"That I shouldn't be near him because I have a tendency to overreact? I assure you that as long as no one shows up here during that change I can handle myself." Severus backed up one tiny step and regained his composure.

"Of course. I'm sorry to offend you but that is how you tend to act around people." He sat there and thought about it for a moment.

"You're right. But I can handle myself around Voldemort more than I ever thought I'd be able to. At first I thought I would've killed him out of sheer irritation."

"If I may, but I believe that may have something to do with the fact that he arrived as a kitten for awhile. The fact that he couldn't talk created a certain understanding between the two of you I think. In theory that would create a higher tolerance towards each other. And if I'm not mistaken, he doesn't seem to mind your company." Harry looked over to where Severus was looking and saw the kitten curled up in a ball next to his leg.

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	15. Chapter 15

**So here's the next chapter! I'm so sorry it's been so long but I misplaced my laptop and now I have found it again! And in the process, my room is clean and thuroughly rearranged therefore giving me new ideas! **

**Cookies and love to all that reviewed on the previous chapter!**

**By the way, I know it's shorter than usual. But, I sort of ran out of things to say and figured you'd rather have a shorter chapter than no chapter at all!**

* * *

He watched the kitten sleep silently with curiosity. It wasn't like him to consider how such a simple act could effect him and yet, here he was watching a kitten sleep fondly. As a mother would someone else's child! It was perposterous! And yet, it was true. He was watching a kitten fondly. And not just any kitten.

Lord Voldemort in kitten form!

Had he shown up of his own free will, Harry would have no doubt grown bored of his arrogance and killed him long ago. But Severus was right. Since he was forced to have that brought to light, he supposed that it was because Voldemort was in such a cute and cuddly form that he learned to get over his annoyance.

But he wasn't really ever annoyed at the cat. How could he be annoyed when the feline was too stunned by his new form to be annoying and anything but helpless and slightly panicked? Or when, by the time the irritating traits came back, he had grown used to the sense of humour and personality quirks; therefore making him immune to being easily annoyed at Tom. It was something he hadn't noticed or thought about until it was brought to light for him.

He didn't take his eyes from the silvery fur, too caught up in the way it shined in the soft sunlight from the doors to the balcony.

"Maybe you are right Severus. I know I no longer am irritated by him as easily as before. I rather like having his company around to be completely honest. It's calming to me, to have someone around that understands-somewhat-my views on all of this. And it does amuse me when he thinks of how my reasonings and arguments and doings make far more sense than any that he had. And I know it amuses him when he thinks that even the great Dumbledore didn't see the options I have. Dumbledore-a weary old man-can't come up with more wisdom and wise choices than a child!" He laughed heartily, the noise rousing the furball.

He watched as the kitten stood shakily, unstable on the mattress and blankets. It wandered around the bed and he let it, watching its movements carefully. Eventually Tom stopped and started licking his paw calmly, facing the french doors-and through them, the outdoors. If he wasn't much mistaken, he could have sworn that the expression on the cat's countinance conveyed the great dislike for the outside world at this moment. He couldn't help the urge to laugh, and he did so quietly.

The kitten spun around quickly, its momentum pulling its bottom over the edge before Tom could gain any hold on the sheets. The look of utter terror on the feline's face as it fell was priceless and had both Harry and Severus on the floor, laughing.

Severus's laughter sputtered out into a shout of alarm and a string of curses. Harry looked over to see Tom attacking his old follower's face with a vengence. He laughed as he pulled the cat away, holding him high in the air.

"Severus go heal yourself while I deal with this one." He put the cat down on the bed and stopped Severus before he was out the door. "Oh, and make sure no one comes anywhere near here for a month at least. When I want them, I'll call for them." Severus left with a curt nod and Harry turned back to the cat. "Do you want to be human?" The kitten nodded vehemently and he held out the vial with the potion. "Take it then."

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**As always, I do have a poll up that I want you to take! Its link is on my profile and I would deeply appriciate it if you would go vote-but hurry! Time's running out!**

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	16. Chapter 16

**Hello my readers! I am very sorry I haven't been able to write anything lately, but I have plowed through my grief quite well, all things considered.**

**That being said: Thank you so much to you for your understanding and support. With your assurances and constant willingness to help me get through these past few weeks I have been able to rekindle my love for the art of writing. So many thanks to you!**

**A special thanks to Alec, for without you I'd still be laying in bed wishing I weren't on this planet anymore.**

* * *

Tom looked at the vial apprehensively but let Potter tip the contents into his mouth anyway. The least he could do was posion him and the only difference that would make would be that he wouldn't get to watch Potter control his followers. The liquid slithered down his throat and made him want to gag. He repressed the urge and swallowed several times trying to get the taste out of his mouth and throat.

It wasn't until several minutes later that he felt any kind of change. He had laid down while waiting and was glad he did so when the searing pain started. It wasn't like a burn you would get from touching something hot-it was like someone took a white-hot rod and was slowly trailing it around in his body, searing all of his organs only to be felt after it had moved on to another organ. It took away his breath and he couldn't form a decent thought.

His pain was so great that he couldn't even pass into the void of darkness that one visits when they faint. He couldn't scream, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't do anything but endure it.

How Potter could be so cruel as to put him through this kind of torture he had no idea. He wouldn't even have put anyone through this kind of displeasure and that was saying something. Oh sure, he'd have people-both followers and opposers-disembowled while living. He'd have them endure the worse posion Severus could concoct and he would even have some of them eaten slowly, healed, and then eaten again. None of that compared to this-none of it even hit the same plane of pain. They didn't come close.

How a teenager could watch someone go through this he would never know.

All of these thoughts were stored in a small recess of his mind, to only be found after the searing and gut-wrenching agony had dissipated somewhat.

How long he was in his torment he didn't know. He had no way of keeping track of time and every time he thought he could find a steady breathing or heartbeat to keep track of he would lose count before he could hit ten and would have to start over. It was enough to make him go mad had it only stayed around for a few hours. But even he knew that it had to be longer than that to keep him sane.

It had been that way with the Longbottoms. When Lestrange tortured them to insanity they were left for dead, only to be found by some of his other followers who tortured them some more, believing them to be dead bodies in which to take their anger out on.

What had happened was one of the only things that could surprise him back then. They had brought the married couple back to him to show him their coherency and completely healed minds.

He had kept them in a privately set dungeon to do some research on the two and came up with only one logical answer: the human brain can repair itself with what had damaged it in the first place. It worked somewhat like Stokholm Syndrome: the brain would endure through enough pain to be considered insane and would be broken beyond repair. It would then remain that way-hiding the sane parts of thought in a small space that nothing could get through to-until more pain would eventually break its way in and let the sane thoughts take over once more.

Was this what they had to go through when they had been tortured to insanity and back again before being murdered?

Oh sure, he had thought ahead enough to transfigure two of his smaller followers to their shapes and tortured them accordingly until they were just coherent enough to walk around aimlessly. He did that only after changing their memories to match those of the Longbottoms. His tracks had been covered well, for he was the only one to know the truth about the two people that were visited by their 'son.'

When the torment finally started to reach its downfall, it grew slightly in power as if to try to consume his pain and continue to feed off of that for the rest of eternity and to deny the truth. In reality it was burning itself out faster by growing larger. It consumed his entire being now, burning his bones to a crisp and evaporating any remaining moisture in his body. He was sure he was withering away to nothing.

But it did begin to disappear slowly, his consciousness starting to create solid thoughts-even if they were simple ones. But simple was better than nothing at all. Time was the next thing to come into play-he could count to twenty now without pause. Only once did he make a mistake, and when he did he would simply start over. After that, he didn't know what he could do as he finally slipped into the unconsciousness he had silently begged for while he still had the ability to think properly.

The blackness swarmed up around him and consumed him before he could object.

* * *

**Once again, thank you all for being patient with me!**

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	17. Chapter 17

When he woke up again it was to find Potter leaning over him with a cool rag against his forehead. He shut his eyes again to make sure what he was seeing was really what he thought he was seeing. Sure enough, Potter was still there with the rag.

He was thankful to note that he had clothes on and was human once again and tried moving his arm. It wouldn't move.

"Ah, you're awake. Severus told me you might not be able to move for awhile after giving you some potion or other. He said it would numb the lingering pain and that you should be very thankful that the only side effect is temporary paralysis. He actually worded it differently, I just made it sound nicer. His way was profoundly more irritated and crude." Tom made a small noise in the back of his throat and winced at the quiet scratchy sound. He had expected his voice to be rough, but not almost completely gone.

"Another thing, he said not to talk very much. I'm assuming what you went through was extremely painful and that's why he doesn't want you talking but you never know with him. I will say this though, I trust Severus. So no talking. Would you like something to drink?" At the nod Tom gave him he got up and held a straw against his lips. "Slowly. I don't want you getting sick all over my bed." At closer inspection he realized he was, indeed, on Potter's personal bed. The straw took importance though and he took a small sip.

That gradually turned into the whole cup and he inhaled slowly trying to make the slightly sick feeling go away. He needed the fluid and he wasn't ready to give it up just yet, but his body clearly didn't like how quickly it got the hydration it so clearly needed.

He watched as Potter calmly and patiently held the cup for him until he finished it. When he got up to go refill it he watched his lithe body moved and flowed, just like the shadows around him did. Smooth, almost like there was no beginning or end between him and the dark splotches against the floor and walls.

When he caught himself it was when he was watching the hair. That damn hair swinging so tantalizing to his imagination. He could picture anyone being on the other side of the long curtain and yet no one but Potter could pull it off correctly. No one had just that color skin to make the blue-black stand out against the purple and absolutely no one, not even his late mother, could have had the eyes to match that color green exactly. Harry Potter was an enigma to him and that irritated him.

He couldn't understand why he was always beaten by the demon, even if he was a shadow demon. He didn't understand why he didn't burn with the desire to kill him the moment he laid eyes on him. He didn't understand why he couldn't find the urge to irritate him anymore. He just didn't know anything anymore when it came to this man.

And man he was. Before Tom had only considered him nothing but a boy but looking at him now he was more of a man than anything. A feminine man but a man nonetheless. No woman could hold that much power in the way Potter did and no woman could hold the sort of commanding air he had. No, this was something entirely new to him and he wasn't sure what it was. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know.

All he did know what that he felt an inexplicable pull to Potter and he was almost positive that it wasn't reciprocated.

When Potter turned around he averted his gaze quickly settling on the window where a few birds flew past. He wasn't entirely sure but he thought he saw a raven. Why he decided to fix his mind on that he would never know, he just did.

Potter never really talked, just made sure his basic needs were taken care of. Food, water and all that jazz. When he made to get up, he groaned at the sudden jolt of pain that he recieved. Almost instantly Potter was at his side helping him sit up and stand. He waved the long-haired demon and went to the bathroom by himself. He was highly aware that Potter wasn't pleased with him for that, probably upset that if he had fallen it would have taken him time to get to his side whereas if he were there he could have prevented the fall in the first place. Potter, always the hero.

But that wasn't true. The scene he had witnessed the other day, whatever day that was, was proof that Golden Boy Potter wasn't the hero after all but the crude and cruel mastermind that managed to play both sides with the winning hand. He had made them all think he was just a poker chip when in fact he was actually the dealer with a royal flush.

And Dumbledore didn't stand a chance.

He would see the old man crumble and fall to Potter just like he had and he would laugh as the elderly bastard went down. He couldn't wait to see the terror in his eyes when he saw that Potter wasn't on his side at all but seemingly on his! And then he would laugh harder when he would see the inevitable hope in the annoying eyes of the old man when he learned that Potter wasn't on Tom's side. It would be just too funny.

He supposed he would have to tell Potter to stop so he could enjoy watching Dumbledore go down and he wasn't sure what Potter would do. Would he heed his request and pause, letting him have his fun taunting the idiot or would he just kill him? Perhaps he would just capture him and take him home for his own private fun. Did Potter have a weird fetish with holding people captive? He hoped so.

When he found himself hoping that Potter had a sexual thing for holding people captive he stopped his thoughts in their tracks. He refused to let himself be in those situations at all, let alone with Potter. The mere idea was simply unthinkable! He shook his head and found himself drifting off to sleep.

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	18. Chapter 18

Harry Potter.

He repeated his name repeatedly in his mind.

Harry Potter.

He had debated changing it just to change things up. Just so he didn't have to repeat his own name to himself to try and make himself get used to it and possibly even begin to like it. So far it wasn't even beginning to work. And yet, he knew that these weren't the reasons for his repeating his name to himself. He refused to think about it in front of other people and yet...Tom wasn't very coherent yet. It was a few hours after he had taken that potion and he was deadly silent and still. Harry hadn't felt his shadow pass into the permanent realm of servitude to him so he knew he was still living. He just wasn't responding.

Harry Potter.

Perhapse it was because he liked his name? Because of his mother naming him that? No, that didn't feel right.

Harry Potter.

He stared at Tom for some time, just waiting for the repitition of his own name to start to give him some inkling as to why he was really repeating it.

Har-

And then it hit him. He was repeating his entire name because he wanted Tom to call him Harry. He didn't want to be called Potter, but Harry. He never used to repeat his name like this, only his last name because that's what everyone knew him as. Only the people that really knew him and vice versa were allowed to call him by his given name. The ones at Hogwarts only got away with it because it was a part of the act just as Severus had let Dumbledore call him 'my boy'. But soon that would change.

Everyone that followed him called him Viper and soon would all those who told him that he was doing the wrong thing and stood up for Dumbledore. But he didn't repeat the name Viper to himself, no he was repeating Harry Potter with a small emphasis on Harry. Small enough that he didn't notice it until he paid attention to it.

He wanted Tom to call him Harry.

Questions swirled around in his mind. He didn't know where to even begin. Why would he want his ex enemy to call him by his given name? He had already admitted to himself that he wasn't irritated beyond belief because he was thrust with his company in a different form. But what could possibly make him want Tom to change what he calls him? He no longer said his last name with venom, no now it was delivered indifferently. Was it just that he wanted him to say it as if he was happy he got to call him that? No, that would be weird.

Harry Potter, Shadow Demon, wanted Tom Riddle to call him Harry.

Out of curiosity he imagined what Tom's voice would sound like if he did indeed ever call him Harry. That led to him imagining a slight moaning aspect to the way his name was delivered and that led to him thinking about a silk covered bed in soft candlelight and moans of passion and feelings of pleasure.

He shook his head to dislodge, only to find that it wouldn't leave easily.

He moved on his chair and leaned his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples and eyes trying to think of a logical explination as to why he just had a minor sexual thought about Tom Riddle.

Actually if he was going to figure anything out he best be honest with himself. There was nothing minor about what he thought before. He had imagined licking down his chest for Merlin's sake! There's nothing minor or remotely innocent about that. So he had a huge and very explicit thought about what he would like to do to the taller man.

And taller he was. He knew that from years of 'fighting' with him. But that was okay since he was shorter than most people even two years younger than him.

Perhapse it was because he hadn't had any sort of sexual gratification in over four months. But then again, that didn't feel quite right either. Didn't he read something somewhere about this? Because if he had he needed to find it again and quickly.

He got up and quickly searched through his stacks of books pertaining to different types of demons. Almost half of the pile was for fire demons so he disreguarded those. A third of what was left was about water demons and those he pushed to the side. Eventually he narrowed it down to three different books. One was on demons in general, and the other two were on shadow demons. The rarest of them all and consequently the rarest books of all the ones he just sorted through.

He took them back to his post by Tom's side and began to skim the contents for something that might help him understand.

He wasn't sure how much longer it was but Tom's fever hit a dangerous spike. Quickly rising, he went to wet a washcloth and gently pressed it against the hot skin, careful to avoid any leftover furry spots that hadn't changed to their human appearance yet. He wasn't sure if he should cool those spots down since the hottest places were the patches of skin that were completely changed back to human likeliness.

He spent many hours bent over the bed like this, determined to be there when Tom woke up. When he just started getting tired of trying to keep him cool, he noticed Tom's eyes open. To his great displeasure he found himself staring at the ice blue eyes of Tom Riddle longer than what was called for as he registered only one thought run through his mind.

Harry Potter.

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	19. Chapter 19

**So sorry guys! I promised this over the weekend and FanFic just decided to not want to work with my laptop which wanted to make me mad SO due to technical problems, I'm later than I said I would be.**

**I'M SO SORRY!**

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Neither one said much the next two weeks and Harry never preformed any magic. He had to admit, it was getting to him just a bit and several times a day he could be found in the darkest room in the middle of the night in a corner trying to be around as many shadows and as much darkness as possible. He never noticed before just how much he relied on their presence to comfort him and to give him the confidence he was usually surrounded by.

It saddened him, mostly. He didn't have any confidence during the day, and what was an amazingly powerful demon without oodles of confidence? There's no worse feeling than that of going from confident in everything to being the complete opposite in a matter of hours.

He had to admit though, it took longer than he originally planned for it to happen. He knew that going without his comfort and strength at his side whenever he needed it would depress him, he just thought it would take minutes rather than hours. But then again, no other demon of any element had ever willingly given up their magic. And even the ones who were forced to give it up from uncontrollable situations never talked about it.

He rememebered reading somewhere that most of them went mad and committed suicide by letting their element and magic surge back into them too quickly. He might want to keep that in mind for when Severus says he can use magic once again. Then the thought of seeing his potions master excited him.

He missed the slightly sarcastic expression the man would have when walking in, like he was in on a joke that no one else knew about. And, even though he told him not to be as formal as he usually was, he kind of liked the fact that Severus knew who was ultimately in charge.

But he missed his easy company and society. It wasn't every day that someone under the service of a demon had the determination and spunk to crack a joke at said demon's expense. He loved the fact that he was easy to talk to and that he always had good advice. He was an exceptional spy as well as adviser. Harry would forever be pulling strings for that man, he just knew it.

Already he's asked him for potions ingredients that Harry knew he only wanted to experiment with for his own personal pleasure but he had gone with it anyway and gotten him as much of that ingredient as possible no matter how rare or dangerous it was. Although he had to admit that the Blast-Ended Skrewt teeth were extremely hard to get. It would have been easier if he had asked for unicorn blood.

After another week he began to get anxious. What were the others doing? Where were they going and who were they recruiting? Who's found another spy for him and had any traitors been detected? When would he find out anything about his followers and what they were up to? What was Dumbledore doing right now? Was he asking about his little 'Golden Boy' still? How many times would these questions run through his mind? Would he really go insane and commit suicide? Or would he actually survive this and be completely fine?

To be fair, most of the people that surrounded him thought he was already going insane anyway. They knew that he would always remain smart about his decisions concerning their lives, but when it came to traitors or people who got in his way they couldn't promise sanity or clear thinking.

And then there were the thoughts about Tom. What was he doing? Where was he? What did he think now that he was in his old body once more? And then there were some uninnocent thoughts and questions. When was the last time he got any? Did he like girls or guys, he had never heard anyone talk about his love life when he was in school. He certainly had the charms back then from what people said to have anyone he wanted. Who did Tom Riddle want in school? Who did he actually get in school?

Did he ever have any of his followers? Was it ever consensual? What was he into?

He shook his head to dislodge those thoughts.

To occupy his time, and to try to keep some form of his mindset, he started reading the books he had found earlier. The first one was no help at all. It hinted at what he needed to find, but it didn't actually tell him anything that he needed to know.

The second was much more helpful.

It told him that if a Demon of Darkness were to ever exist again, then there would most likely be some form of giant disaster looming. It didn't surprise Harry in the slightest, there was a war looming over his head. It also said that due to the imminent danger, his instincts would lead him towards the best match for him so they could reproduce to keep the Shadow Demon blood going.

Which all made sense, sort of. Couples tend to have a lot of sex before the wives send out their husbands to war, and they usually end up pregnant. But why was he having these thoughts about Tom Riddle of all people?

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	20. Chapter 20

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS!" Tom's voice rang out through the halls and Harry cringed. He had never heard Tom yell before and he was absolutely positive that he didn't like it one bit.

"What is it Tom?" His voice, rather than being mad and loud was exhausted and quiet. He had hoped the other man would get the hint and quiet down but apparently he was destined to go deaf.

"I'VE SPENT THE PAST TWO WEEKS IN THIS HOUSE AND I CAN'T DO A DAMNED THING! YOU WON'T LET ME USE MAGIC, YOU WON'T LET ME TALK TO ANYONE, NOTHING!" He sighed.

"Tom I already told you, Severus's orders were to keep you away from magic and people. When he shows up is when you can use magic again." He sighed when he heard Severus's voice from the doorway.

"And I'm quite glad you made him heed my advice. Tom would you mind screaming just a tad louder, I'm sure the wizards in China haven't heard you yet." Harry chuckled.

"DAMN YOU SNAPE I'VE BEEN GOING INSANE HERE AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO STAND THERE LIKE IT'S NO BIG DEAL!" Harry stood.

"Tom that's enough!" He delighted when the older man turned to him, shocked. The demon had never yelled at him before and even though his memory was a little unreliable when he was running through the garden, he still remembered just what this particular demon could do if mad enough. "I've taken the risk of losing my sanity to make sure you lived through that potion, I've listened to your damn yelling for the past month, and I'm risking my life both in repressing my powers and in letting them back in. I'm not going to listen to you insult my favourite spy and best potions maker too!"

He smiled when he saw Tom's face turn as white as a pair of new socks.

Severus walked in a ruffled Harry's hair, thanking him with his light touch for his loyalty and trust. Harry, in turn, riddled him with questions about what had been going on.

The next several days were spent with Severus and Harry bent over his extensive collections of parchments and maps.

In that time, Tom had gotten quite restless. Here he was, society-less and bored out of his mind with two people less that five feet from him and he wasn't able to get so much as a simple greeting out of them. He resorted to reading more books in Harry's libraries, which bothered Harry slightly. He wasn't worried about Tom finding his books about sex, more like he didn't want him to find the ones on the more hardcore scenes. That would just be embarassing.

It wasn't like he was into that stuff, quite far from it. He simply used the information he gathered there to devise torture systems and techniques. He learned how to tie someone to the ceiling, that had been much more fun that a simple levitating spell which doesn't cause pain. The ropes had caused him pain.

It was another four days until he finally saw someone other than the house elf that would bring him his meals while he was in the libraries reading. Four days of nonstop boredom and an increasing irritation to having to resort to finding books on subjects he knew little to nothing about. He now knew about almost every single religion that had ever been established and widely accepted around the world, he knew everything about the muggle world that the old books had known about and he knew where the ideas to just about every flavour of jelly bean both magical and not.

He was going to explode if this kept up.

No, not explode. Implode. Dark lords don't make messes and exploding would certainly make a mess. He would implode, less of a mess. One body to get ride of versus one entire room to clean. Imploding was definately cleaner and so he would implode if he had to keep sitting in silence like this.

It was after these thoughts that he got up and put his book away and went in search for another. He wasn't interested in learning any more about some crumpled-horn-something-or-other, he wanted to learn something interesting. And then is when it hit him.

Harry Potter, while one of the most powerful beings on the planet, was still a teenage boy. There had to be some form of porn around here somewhere.

Of course he came up empty-handed. After walking around the entire library twice he was ready to give up but decided to check just one more time. Of course, it would be easier to just summon everything to do with sex, but he really didn't need to have fifty books hit him all at once. After another five minutes of looking, he finally spotted a book that looked brand new. Previously he hadn't paid any attention to it, but now he was curious. A brand new book with no title? That didn't make sense to him so he pulled it out and started to read.

When Severus left that night, Tom made Harry take a shower and go to sleep in his bed rather than over his maps and parchments. When the demon came out of the shower, Tom sat up. He was going to get an answer if it killed him...which it might.

"Harry...since when are you into BDSM?"

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**Oh, Harry has some explaining to do. **

**Please send me reviews to tell me what you think of the story so far!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry it's been so long! I'm currently in the middle of moving so it's been extremely difficult for me, especially since my bank is giving me issues. :( But I'm trying to keep up, I really am! Feel free to review at the end and tell me what you think of the chapter and your predictions as to what you think will happen!**

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"What?" The demon turned to Tom, extremely tired and worn out. The last thing he wanted to do was to answer ridiculous questions. "I just want to go to bed Tom, what are you on about?" He wasn't sure he liked the look on his face when he repeated his question. "Tom, can't this wait until later? I'm exhausted."

"No you most certainly can not go to bed until I get an answer." Within seconds a slight flash of anger mingled with a large wave of fustration and he had the other man tied up on a chair within half a minute. "Oh come now Potter, I knew you were into tying people up but really, is this the time to be jumping me?" He turned and growled loudly.

"No. I'm bloody well tired, therefore you can sleep in the hallway." With that being said he lifted Tom's chair up and carried him to the other end of the hallway before setting him down in a soundproofed room. He heard protestations up until he slammed the door shut and smiled while leaning against the wall. It was quiet at last.

He thought about how abnoxious Tom could be when he wanted something, and he was glad that he had the guts to lock him up for the night while he caught up on his much-needed sleep. His room was dark, just the way he liked it. The doors to the balcony were open and made the curtains flutter in the cool breeze, an added bonus to him as it would have cooled down his silk sheets even more. If there was anything he liked more than a nice relaxing walk through the shadows at night, it was falling asleep in cold sheets.

He climbed in, his long hair flowing behind him across the bed and was promptly falling asleep. He remembered thinking that if he hadn't been so tired he really would have jumped Tom just to shut him up. He never did remember the tiny voice in the back of is mind tell him that it wasn't just about making him be quiet, but because he was attractive and could be great company when he wanted to be. He also wouldn't recall agreeing with any of that.

When he woke up the next morning it was to find that the sun was just reaching the position in the sky that meant it was about nine in the morning, just a fine time for him. He stretched languidly and got up, going to the bathroom and then straight to the room he put Tom in the night before. He fully intended to just let him go and not answer any questions until later.

At least, that's what he intended to happen.

What had occured was something that not even Tom had been prepared for.

He walked in the door and looked at the man he had tied up. He hadn't realized it at the time but he had added a few intricate knots that he hadn't even realized he was adding at the time. Now when he looked at him he was tempted to just devour him. Shaking his head, he let his presence known by clearing his throat. The look of utter helplessness that Tom had before he had realized Harry was standing there disappeared quickly and he started asking questions again.

"Since when are you into BDSM? Why would you even consider something like that anyway? Why are you avoiding my questions?" Finally it was too much for the demon to handle and he yanked him to his feet, having already untied the ropes.

"You talk too much Tom." He set him down and turned to leave the room when the next question took him by surprise.

"Why'd you call me Tom?" It wasn't the question that made him stop initally, it was the quiet tone in which it was asked. Tom had sounded so small and unsure of himself in that moment, that Harry wouldn't have been able to stop himself from turning around and looking at him curiously.

"I don't know." He made to leave again when a flash of irritation hit him. It wasn't anything but questions and Harry knew that he shouldn't be offended or irritated at him but the man had a way of getting under his skin and driving him mad. He turned around again and grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him down so they were face-to-face.

"Tom, just shut up." He then took them both by surprise by taking his lips in a devouring kiss that seared them both. They lost themselves in the passion of it for a few moments before Harry tore his lips from Tom's just as suddenly as he had put them there and turned to run from the room. He wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was a considerable distance from Tom. The shadows took pity on him and swallowed him into their depths, transporting him to the other side of the castle.

Tom just stood there, confused as to why Harry kissed him and even more confused that he left the way he did. He put his fingers to his lips, amazed that Harry Potter had just given him the best kiss of his entire life.


End file.
